


A Connection

by druidwolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s03e11 Alpha Pact, M/M, Pre-Slash, Season/Series 03 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-19
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-23 20:45:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/930918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/druidwolf/pseuds/druidwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Picks up right after 3.10, "Alpha Pact"<br/>Lydia wasn't enough to bring Stiles back and as a result, he's caught between life and death. While everyone else rushes off to save the Sheriff, in the hopes that he'll be able to revive his son, Cora and Peter bring a weakened Derek into the clinic and something unexpected occurs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Connection

**Author's Note:**

> Was dealing with major feels after Alpha Pact and then I saw [this](http://neuroticstilinski.tumblr.com/post/58144033390/what-if-stiles-doesnt-come-back-like-hes-stuck) post on tumblr and I just couldn't resist.

"He’s not waking up!" Lydia shouts as she tries in vain to pull Stiles from unconsciousness. "Stiles!"

Deaton’s head whips around from where he's assisting a groggy, but ultimately responsive, Scott out of his own ice tub. “Lydia, _Lydia._ You need to calm down.” He places his hands over hers as they begin to attempt shaking Stiles awake.

"But he won’t wake up! I said his name over and over again and he still won’t wake up!"

Deaton looks down at the young boy in the ice tub whose lips are starting to turn blue. Stiles gives no sign of waking. Deaton kneels down and hoists the sheriff’s son out of the tub and onto the examination table. He grabs his stethoscope off the counter and begins to check the boy's heart.

"Is he dead?" Allison asks fearfully. She’d woken up just a few minutes before Scott.

Isaac’s hand squeezes her shoulder. “His heart’s still beating.”

"Yes it is," he confirms, moving his stethoscope out from under Stiles’ shirt. "But slowly, far too slowly." Whatever expression he has on his face seems to do nothing to reassure any of them. The group huddles further in around Stiles’ body, Allison wrapping her arms Lydia who has tears running down her face.

Scott, who has finally recovered from his own experience, maneuvers himself around the table to stand directly by his friend and he is frantic. “What’s going on? What’s wrong with Stiles?”

"He won’t wake up." Isaac supplies.

"He’s _dead?_ "

"No. He’s not dead, Scott. He’s just not waking up." He says in a tone he hopes is reassuring. He's trying his best to keep everyone from panicking but the situation is quickly getting away from him.

"What does that mean?!"

Deaton can't fight back grim tone in his voice. “He is neither dead, nor is he living.”

"That doesn’t make any sense!" Allison accuses and he shoots her a look.

"He’s caught between life and death. This is why I had you partner up; you needed someone who could pull you back. It appears somewhere along the way Mr. Stilinski just got, for lack of a better term, stuck."

"How? Allison and I came back! I heard your voice, calling me back. Why didn’t it work for Stiles?" Scott asks his boss desperately.

Deaton doesn’t answer. His eyes move instead to Lydia. “I was under the impression Stiles was deeply enamored with you, Ms. Martin.”

"Well—I mean, yes I know he used to—but lately..." She finally looks away from the immobile boy to meet Deaton’s gaze. This time her voice doesn’t waver. "Not anymore. We’re not like that."

The look on his face must have told them that that is exactly what he was afraid of going by the expressions of panic each teenager is holding a moment later.

"Why does that matter? They’re still friends," Scott says.

He sighs, “It takes a very powerful bond to pull someone back from something like this. You are essentially calling them back from death. There needs to be a certain degree of affection shared between the two individuals, such as that of a parent, a lover, or a true friend. But more importantly, the connection requires a deep unwavering trust. I had hoped Stiles’ fondness for Lydia would be enough to draw him back.”

Scott only seems to have heard half of what he'd said as he grips Stiles’ arm and shouts “Stiles! Come on, Stiles. You’re my brother. I need you.”

"Scott that won’t work, you can’t be his anchor."

"Then what do we do? We can’t just leave him like this!"

Deaton moves to place his hand on Scott’s arm but he doesn't dare try to make him release the grip he has on his friend. Going by the anguish on Scott’s face and the tension in his grip, Deaton knows that would be a huge mistake. “Scott, Jennifer has your mother and Stiles’ father captive. Stiles’ sacrifice will still be effective, the Nemeton will be powerful enough to help you defeat her.” His assistant’s reluctant look told him what he’d already surmised; Scott won't leave until he knows Stiles will be okay. But Deaton can't offer him that reassurance. “Your friend is stuck but he’s not dead. However, I am fearful about what will happen if he remains in this state for too long. He needs someone who can pull him out of this.”

Scott appears torn but when he met Deaton’s eyes he knows he understands, “You’re saying he needs his Dad.”

He nods. “Yes.”

Scott looks back down at his friend for a long moment. “Okay.” His gaze turns to Isaac and Allison. “You guys ready?” They both nod their heads.

"My hunting stuff is in the car. I can get fully equipped when we get there," Allison says as she pulls on her jacket and pants.

"Then let’s go." Though Allison and Isaac both gather the remainder of their things and walk out the door, Scott doesn’t immediately move to follow them.

Lydia places her hand on the arm opposite the one that Scott is still gripping and offers him the most reassuring smile Deaton assumes she is able to muster under the circumstances. “Deaton and I will stay with him.”

Scott nods. His hand move to rest on top of Stiles’, which are still clasping onto his father’s battered Sheriff’s badge. “I’m gonna get him back, buddy. I promise. I’ll get him back and then we’ll come and get you.” With one last look at Stiles, Scott followws his friends outside.

Deaton grabs a chair from the corner and sets it down next to the examination table for Lydia. She gives him a thankful look and sits down before asking, “Shouldn’t we do something to prevent hypothermia? His skin is freezing. What if his heart stops?”

It was doubtful but still possible. “You’re right, best to air on the side of caution.” Deaton pulls a blanket out from one of the cabinets and Lydia spreads it across Stiles as best she can. It was small, having been made for something the size of a husky or retriever. It reaches about all the way from his feet to the middle of his chest, but both his arms remain uncovered.

"Ms. Martin, you were able to bring him back to an extent," he finally says as he takes in her sorrowful expression. "Mr. Stilinski was dead for several moments. If it wasn’t for you and the friendship the two of you share, he would have remained that way."

She says nothing and her eyes don’t leave Stiles prone form. "You could not have prevented this."

When Lydia finally speaks her voice is so soft Deaton has to strain himself to make out her words. “Maybe I could have. If I had gone to him after Jackson left. Maybe I could have been able to feel that way about him.” She's quiet for a moment before shaking her head with a sad but amused sort of grin. “No,” she says decisively, "I’ve never seen him that way and we’d never be romantically compatible. We get along far too well for that.”

—-

It's about twenty minutes later that they hear the door to the clinic slam open. The sound makes Lydia jump in her seat.

She turns to Deaton who offers her a smile before making his way to the front. She hears him greet whoever (or whatever) has just barged in with, “I see you’ve still failed to grasp the concept of the _Closed_ sign.”

"We have an emergency." She tenses up as she recognizes the voice of Peter Hale.

"What happened?" Deaton demands he voice getting louder as he makes his way back into the room.

When Lydia catches sight of Cora struggling to support the weight of her brother she vacates the chair and motions towards it. Cora gives her a nod, which she knows is the only thanks she’ll get.

His sister lowers him onto the chair and Lydia can hear Derek breathing heavily. He’s fully conscious but she’s surprised he doesn’t crumble when his sister moves to sit on her knees beside him.

"He decided to give up his power as an alpha to try and save his little sister," Peter says with his usual dismissive and unimpressed tone.

"And I wonder who it was that gave him that idea," Deaton replies, looking directly at Peter before kneeling down to examine Derek.

Lydia see's Peter take in the sight of Stiles’ immobile body on the table and she bristles. “And what exactly happened here?”

He was obviously expecting Deaton to answer, but before the vet cans even form a response Lydia cuts in with an icy, “None of your business.”  
At her glare Peter’s expression turns almost sheepish and he skulks into the corner of the room. Good. She’d already had to deal with him once today and that was more than enough.

"Is he going to be okay?" Cora asks, paying no mind to the exchanges being made around her. She only cares about Derek.

"He should be fine. It seems the process has just taken it out of him. Give him about a half an hour to sit and recuperate and he’ll be back to normal."

At that, Cora’s expression breaks into one of pure relief before she also catches sight of the boy on the table. “What's wrong with Stiles?”

Lydia's about to give her the same explanation she’d offered Peter when Deaton breaks in. "Cora, Peter, Scott and his friends have just left to take on Jennifer and the alphas. I assume when Derek’s recovered you’ll be joining them?"

Neither of them offer a response but Derek nods from his slumped over position on the chair.

"Well then I expect you’ll be needing directions to the Nemeton. Come with me," and with that he leads Cora and Peter back into his private office. Leaving Lydia alone with Derek and a comatose Stiles.  
Lydia remains awkwardly standing by the table, the only sound in the room the labored breaths Derek takes.

"What happened….to Stiles?" He asks eventually when his breathing begins to even out.

She hesitates before replying, "Scott, Stiles, and Allison sacrificed themselves to the Nemeton in order to stop Ms. Blake from killing their parents—"

 _"What."_ Derek says sharply, his eyes flashing blue.

"—but he’ll be fine. Scott and Allison were both alight," she talks quickly hoping Derek won't notice the lie. "He just won’t wake up."

Derek's eyes moved to study Stiles’ face. At first glance she could understand why someone would write off his expression as indifferent; there's no up or downward turn to his lips or movement of his eyebrows, but when she looks at Derek's eyes she can see something almost desperate in them. Lydia watches his face transform into one of concern as his other features begin to match the anxiety in his eyes. She doesn't know Derek very well, but he gives off the impression that he's someone who does not display his emotions very often. She'd seen his face when Boyd had crumbled to the ground at the loft, but that had been Boyd. From what Stiles, Allison, and Scott had told her of the past year, Derek seemed to be more of a forced ally than a friend or a leader. So why would Stiles warrant such a look of concern?

They sit there for several minutes, Lydia watching Derek watching Stiles with interest. Lydia can't spend any more time looking at Stiles deathly still and pale body, so the distraction of studying Derek is a welcomed one. She see's him bend his head closer to Stiles’ body, his nostrils flare and his chest visibly expand. She instantly recalls seeing Ethan do something similar to Danny when he thought he wasn't watching.

Lydia fights back a smirk. Derek's lack of subtlety was almost endearing.

Derek reaches out and places a hand hesitantly on Stiles’ shoulder. He looks like concentrating on something pretty heavily. Though his intense gaze isn't being directed towards her, she begins to feel uncomfortable, as though she is intruding upon whatever is happening between Derek and the unconscious Stiles. She is about to make a retort somewhere along the lines of “don’t strain yourself” just to break the silence, when she realizes he must be listening to Stiles’ heartbeat.

She isn't given very much time to mull over this though, as Derek’s hand runs across Stiles’ body and comes to rest on the middle of his chest.

"Stiles," he says. His tone is annoyed, as though he’s caught Stiles doing something he shouldn’t be.

Lydia's torn somewhere between stunned silence and getting ready to roll her eyes when she see's the increasing movements of Stiles’ chest as he breathes in and out more fiercely. No way.

 _"Stiles!"_ Derek demands again, his voice still sounds vexed but Lydia can just make out the hint of a smile on his face.

She's unable to study the expression further because not a moment later Stiles eyes pop open wildly with a desperate inhale and consumes her attention. He breaks into several coughs as he regains his full range of breath. Lydia's amazement leaves her able to do nothing but watch as his eyes drop into a squint before blinking several times to adjust to the light. His face then takes on a sort of scrunched expression and he looks confusedly from Lydia to Derek. “Hey guys... what’s up?” he asks cautiously.

Lydia can tell the exact moment that Stiles remembers why he's in the veterinary clinics. “Derek, when did you get here?” His eyes glance at what little of the room he can make out from his spot on the table then looks to Lydia. “Where’s Scott and everyone else?”

She doesn't answer. How can she, when she doesn’t even believe what she's seeing. She hears the footsteps Deaton and the Hales make as they reenter the room and is pleased to see that the vet looks just as surprised as her.

Out of the corner of her eye Lydia notices Derek slyly move his hand off of Stiles chest, that same barely there smile still in place. The movement does not go unnoticed by Sties either, who turns back to Derek. Realization clicks into place at the weight of the look that passes between them. Stiles is the one that breaks eye contact and the redness of his cheeks could probably be seen from space. At least his color is returning.

Deaton recovers before her and she see’s his shock melt into a thoughtful expression. He meets her stare before muttering, “Well, that’s certainly interesting.”

"Could somebody please hand me my other set of clothes? I’m frickin’ freezing!"

**Author's Note:**

> Come cry about teen wolf with me on [tumblr](http://imminentalpha.tumblr.com)


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